


Lost Prince - The Story of Bardock and the King

by kinkwriter



Series: Lost Prince [2]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Anal Sex, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2019-10-14 01:46:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17499281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinkwriter/pseuds/kinkwriter





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

>   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a side story for a longer story called Lost Prince. These chapters won't make much sense if you haven't read that one first. These chapters are just snippets of the relationship between Bardock and King Vegeta over the course of twenty five years and they are referenced on occasion in the longer fic.
> 
> This scene is only referenced in _Chapter 3_ of Lost Prince, I believe, but I expanded it out to include the entirety of their first time together since I guess that might be important to some people lol

The king was here again . . . watching him. The frequency of his visits had steadily increased even as he said nothing again and again. Bardock hardly ever wore his scouter in the lab—the blasted thing was far too distracting. He’d heard the intruder the first time but as the man never said anything, Bardock was content to continue working. He’d never said anything, even when he’d eventually caught the faint whiff of the king’s scent.

King Vegeta had left that day without an utterance, just as he had every time he’d come the last three months. Bardock wasn’t sure what it was that he’d done to gain the high-born saiyan’s attention, but he had it nonetheless. He worked silently on the king’s pet project, kept his reports concise and on time. They were a steady stream of nothing, a blip in the day of a planetary ruler.

So why then was the man standing behind him, the whoosh of the door hidden in the sounds of continuous keystrokes and beep of the lab machines as he worked to sequence a strand of DNA from a previously undiscovered species.

“I know that you know I’m here.”

Bardock froze then. His fingers coming to a halt over the touch screen and his shoulders tensing. He stood up suddenly, turning around and immediately bowing.

“Apologies, my king, I had no idea—”

The king phased out, expelling a bit of ki to appear quickly in front of Bardock—far closer than a King should be to a third-class scientist. Vegeta took hold of his jaw, silencing him as he moved Bardock’s head around this way and that as though examining him—more specifically his eyes. He could tell that the king was interested in the color of his eyes for some strange reason.

“Can I help you?” he asked, his words stilted as the hand continued to hold onto his face.

The king released him but didn’t step back. Instead his head tilted and his gaze wandered over the scientist’s form.

“Three months ago, I received a report from the CSO that there was an abrupt surge in power—enough that several hundred scouters in the vicinity of the palace exploded.”

Bardock nodded. “Yes, I remember the incident. I assisted with the data gathering on the investigation. It was ruled a mass malfunction in the scouters themselves—a glitch that invaded the entire system.”

Vegeta nodded. “An acceptable explanation—but the power level . . . it was nearly consistent with that of our purple-haired prince.”

The scientist balked. “Sire, I checked on the situation personally—the level was not nearly as high as the—the fighter.”

“I did say _nearly_ consistent,” the king said with a curious tilt of his head. “Someone who was _almost_ a super saiyan . . . but not quite.”

Bardock blinked passively. “I’m sorry, sire. I do not have an explanation.”

The king was quiet for a month, his expression thoughtful. “This . . . glitch. It happened while you were on palace grounds.”

The third-class felt his blood run cold. “I—I suppose.”

Vegeta continued. “And it happened at _precisely_ the same time that your terminal here received a communique that Raditz’s squad had been wiped out.”

He remembered the communique—mistaken though it was—and remembered the soul-searing pain that had accompanied it. “I—I wouldn’t know, sire—”

“But I do know,” the king said, interrupting him. “Are you hiding something from me . . . Bardock?”

His shoulders slumped. “Sire, I . . . I know you wish to find this lost prince, but I . . . I admit that I powered up that day. I was . . . I was angry and sad that my last son was lost to me, but sire . . .” he began, his voice holding a note of pleading. “If I was truly that powerful—rivaling the savior . . . I would have re-registered my class.”

The king snorted as he took a step back. “And yet, I know that you’re not a third-class when it comes to power, but you’ve not requested to be re-tested.”

 _Shit,_ he thought. He should have let those elites beat him to a pulp. He shouldn’t have fought back . . .

“Sire . . . I think perhaps a mistake has been made,” he said, keeping his voice small and weak.

“Oh really?” the king asked with a raised brow.

Bardock swallowed in what he hoped was a convincingly nervous fashion. “Nappa—that is—General Nappa. I know he is a close friend of yours. He’s . . . always interested in fighting and power levels. He’s made no secret that he’s annoyed that I’ve not re-tested, but really . . . there isn’t much point. I don’t go off planet anymore and I rarely train with anyone. A second-class scientist isn’t worth much more than a third-class scientist.”

“And are you?” the king asked. “Only a second-class? Nappa said you’re closer to an elite, possibly even rivaling your son Raditz.”

Nappa could say all he wanted, but Bardock was _sure_ that those elites hadn’t breathed a word of their defeat to anyone. “Having heard many of his stories . . . I can only say that the general sometimes likes to . . . embellish.”

The king pursed his lips. “Well, I suppose there is only one way to find out. I want you to be re-tested.”

Flashes of the mind-manipulation and hallucinations employed by the testing office flashed through his mind and he began shaking his head almost frantically. “Sire? It’s really not—”

“Oh it is . . . A king can not be seen in the company of a third-class.”

Bardock blinked in confusion. “Company? Sire, I don’t understand.”

Vegeta raised a brow before reaching up, his hand coming around Bardock’s neck and he pulled the other man forward until the King’s arm dug into the looser garb worn by the scientists and techs.

The third-class could only blink stupidly as the King leaned slightly up and took Bardock’s mouth with his own. It was . . . Bardock’s first kiss and he was frozen on the spot as the other man worked to get him to respond.

The king eventually pulled away slightly, though Bardock could still feel his breath against his lips. “I knew that both your offspring were born in labs, but you’ve never taken a lover, have you?”

The tone of the question was simply curious, but there was something else there—some thread of . . . possession.

The scientist swallowed. “No, sire.”

The king hummed before leaning in, his lips gentler this time, slower as he moved his tongue into Bardock’s mouth. The third-class gasped slightly as the king’s other hand came around to touch his waist. The man’s fingers glided under Bardock’s shirt until they brushed his skin and then . . . then his tail.

His body hitched and he felt himself begin to respond then, slowly moving his lips against the king’s and he reached out himself, his fingers hesitant to touch the king, but the other man was pushing him until his back hit the terminal and Bardock’s hands went immediately around the king’s waist as he was lifted up to sit on the touch screen.

The king stepped between his spread legs and Bardock moaned as his rapidly inflating erection brushed against the other man.

It was the sound of his own voice that broke Bardock from the spell. He pulled away, his breathing rapid and hitched. “Sire, I—we can’t.”

Vegeta snorted, both hands cupping either side of Bardock’s face before speaking. “As king, I believe it is I that decides what we can and can not do.”

The king’s scent was almost overwhelming to him—it robbed him of his senses and sense. “S—Sire,” he said for want of anything else.

“I also believe you owe me a report. You will deliver it personally to my quarters this evening.”

Bardock couldn’t stop his eyes from going wide at the implication. The . . . The king wanted him? No—no this couldn’t be happening.

“Do not look so apprehensive. You will enjoy yourself,” the king murmured as he leaned in once more and brushed a kiss over Bardock’s lips.

His hand trembled as Vegeta stepped away and exited the room.

“Fuck,” he said as he got off his terminal and slumped back down into his chair. He looked down at his—his erection and gritted his teeth.

It wasn’t that he’d never wanted a lover, but . . . it would be far too easy to become attached—to want something that other third-classes just couldn’t give him. They already saw him as weak because he’d turned his back on being a warrior in favor of working in his labs creating things.

But he was strong . . . strong enough to defeat those who had to balls to actually attack him—strong enough to let them live when every bloodthirsty instinct he possessed told him they didn’t deserve his mercy. Strong enough to fight the change as it threatened to overwhelm him that day when he’d been sent that communique.

But not strong enough to keep the king from noticing, it seemed.

 _Fine,_ he thought. The king wanted to get his rocks off a few times and intimidate a third-class nobody from the bowels of the underfunded science department? Bardock could do that. He’d give King Vegeta what he wanted and after a few rounds with the less-than-experienced weakling, the king would surely lose interest.

This was what he told himself again and again as he approached the king’s chambers that night. This was what he told himself when the guards gave him a once over and clearly found him unworthy of the honor they felt he was being bestowed.

This was what he told himself when the door shut behind him and he was left alone in the king’s chambers and the man was nowhere in sight. What he did see was a familiar geometric design painted and carved into the walls and knew there was no escaping this.

The sound of water in the adjoining chamber answered his question as to the location of King Vegeta and he kept his position by the door as he waited. It wasn’t long before the water cut off and the door opened.

The king strode out, his robe open and his entire body bared to the room . . . and Bardock.

The third-class didn’t avert his eyes as a flaccid penis was not exactly a new sight to him—he’d used communal bathing houses like everyone else growing up. King Vegeta was slightly shorter than Bardock in height, but he was hardly lacking in other areas, it seemed, and Bardock moved his gaze to meet the king’s.

“Not so innocent, then,” the man said and Bardock knew in that moment that the king had never slept with a low-class saiyan before. The nobility didn't go to bath houses as they could afford the expense of water being used for an individual bath on the dry desert planet. The general result of this was that many nobles tended to be a bit more . . . prudish about nakedness than the lower-classes. He'd heard many a scathing comment over the years about the promiscuous nature of the low classes simply because a naked body didn't bother them the same way. The king's guards and even his _servants_ came from the higher classes—he was surrounded daily by the best that Vegeta-sei had to offer so why would he look at anything but them?

“Third-classes aren’t like nobles, my king," Bardock said, his voice even. "We are well acquainted with nudity outside of sex.”

The king narrowed his eyes for a second before letting out a snort. “My mistake.”

Bardock blinked at the admission but said nothing else as King Vegeta’s eyes perused him critically. “Have the engineering uniforms always been so . . . ugly?” he asked out of nowhere.

The third-class just stared for a moment before coming back to himself. “Sire . . . there is no standardization to the uniforms of the science division. There are only a dozen of us in the building and we do not have a department head so took a vote and—”

“You _chose_ this?” the king asked as he came to sit on his bed.

“Sire, these are a popular choice for work on the derin homeworld—”

“This _isn’t_ the derin homeworld. This is Vegeta-sei.”

“Yes, Sire.”

The king sighed but shook his head dismissively. Bardock firmly kept his expression neutral even as he mentally laughed. This would be a short visit, it seemed. King Vegeta already looked bored of their entire interaction.

“I assume you have already bathed,” the king said indifferently.

Bardock’s lips tightened. Of course, he had. “Yes, sire.”

“Good. Get that ugly thing off.”

He opened the rather voluminous garment, dropping the many layers of fabric onto a nearby ottoman. The derin fashion wasn’t exactly his first choice either, but he was the only saiyan in the entire science division and he’d decided that blending in with the other sentients was the best choice in order to maintain even a modicum of belonging with the others.

He turned back around once he was down to his undergarments and he could see that interest had once more been ignited in the other man.

“It’s nice to see that you’ve maintained yourself even with your . . . job.”

Bardock said nothing in response to the jab as he approached the king. The older saiyan reached out and took his hand, yanking harshly so the third-class tumbled forward. He was pushed to the side and King Vegeta maneuvered them until Bardock’s back was on the mattress with the king looming over him.

His eyes were clenched shut but snapped open when the only thing that happened next was a light brush over the scar on his cheek. There was a pensive look on the king’s face but the man said nothing as he leaned down and brushed his lips over Bardock’s.

The third-class felt his entire body clench as unwelcome hands moved over his chest and then his thighs.

“Relax,” the king whispered again his skin, but Bardock could only swallow heavily in response.

He felt the king’s hand coming up and taking hold of the side of his head and Bardock’s eyes were wide as the king reached up and scratched the skin at the base of his own neck nearly raw. Within seconds, the third-class felt like his senses were on fire and then the king was burying Bardock’s nose into the reddened area.

His entire body began to tremble as the scent overcame his good sense and he felt his mouth begin to open on instinct. Just as his teeth began to close over the king’s shoulder, he was abruptly pushed back onto the mattress, his jaws snapping open and shut like a feral dog.

“Uh uh, third-class. We don’t mark our betters,” the king murmured as his hand held the other man by the throat until he eventually calmed enough for Vegeta to lean in and kiss him again.

This time, Bardock’s arms came around the king and held him close, his tongue diving into his lover’s mouth to taste everything he couldn’t have.

He didn’t even notice as his undershorts were pulled off and discarded, but he did feel the skin of the other man against the entire length of him as they rutted against one another. Bardock felt the other saiyan reach over and he held onto the king’s torso as he thought Vegeta meant to leave him. The king only chuckled, but didn’t try to dislodge his hold as he returned with a familiar tiny pod.

He’d seen them plenty, but he’d never used one himself. He’d never felt it pushed into him as the king was doing so now. He’d never felt it dissolve inside as it cleaned, lubed, and relaxed his passage. Vegeta leaned back so he was up on his shins with Bardock’s legs draped over his thighs.

Bardock’s eyes moved to the ceiling as the other man positioned himself and began sliding inside. He matched his breathing to the steady thrusts that pushed further and further into his body. He couldn’t help admiring the fresco painted on the ceiling depicting battles long passed. It was so intricate that he thought he could look at it every night and find something new.

As the king bottomed out, he leaned back down and Bardock’s gaze was caught by the king as the other man hovered over him. Vegeta was staying still, watching his face for a reaction, and eventually when the twinges faded away, the third-class leaned up and gently brushed his lips over those of his ruler’s.

That seemed to be all the king needed to begin to move, his pelvis slamming into Bardock’s thighs, pushing his legs even wider.

There were noises that he’d hate himself for making later, sounds of needs, and weak whining with every brush over his prostate.

“My king,” he breathed out, even as he wished in that moment that he was with someone who truly wanted him—someone who would murmur Bardock’s name in passion as well.

 _Enjoy it,_ his mind whispered. _It will not last and you will be alone again._

He acknowledged the truth in those thoughts and bit his lips before releasing the coverlet from the death grip he’d had and instead wrapped his arms around his lover. The king’s thrusts faltered for only a second before they picked back up in earnest.

“That’s it, my third-class, take it,” Vegeta said and Bardock shut the king out from his mind. He pictured a saiyan from long ago that he’d loved, but had lost to battle. He didn’t dare breath the other man’s name and instead once more focused on the beautiful fresco as his body rhythmically moved to the king’s tempo.

He enjoyed it.

He enjoyed sinking his fingers into thick spiky hair and breathing in the spicy musk of a lover. He enjoyed sloppy sounds of their bodies moving together, and he enjoyed the grunts that sounded in his ear.

Bardock felt himself orgasm and his back came up off the bed to slap wetly against the other man. His eyes slid closed and his nails dug into the skin of the king’s nape before he loosened his grip and fell back onto the mattress. He was breathing harshly and longed to draw his legs together to escape the increasing sensitivity of his passage, but the king wasn’t done with him.

 _Not by a long shot,_ he realized as he was turned onto his stomach. He blinked as his gaze found the fire that burned across the room. The other man continued to move within him, but his attention was caught on the way the light danced over the straight lines of the design inlaid into the walls.

Perhaps this would be the only time.

He hoped it would be the only time, but something about the way he felt fingers moving over the scars on his back . . . he didn’t acknowledge the touches, but he was distinctly conscious of them.

Eventually the king shuttered behind him, the man's hips coming to slam into his one last time before making tiny strokes as he milked himself into the third-class.

“Does the palace not pay you enough to have these removed?” the king asked quietly behind him and Bardock flinched. This was why low classes did not fuck high classes.

“I have no reason to remove them,” he said simply. He had no one to impress with his naked body.

“You would be more attractive without them.”

Bardock snorted before moving his rear a bit more forcefully than was probably smart, but he succeeded in pushing the other man off and out of him. He needed _out_ of this fucking room.

 

* * *

 

 

Vegeta stared up at the ceiling as he caught his breath. He’d somehow been pushed off the other man. _Perhaps the third-class was offended,_ he thought with a wry smile before his gaze moved back to the other man.

That . . . had been better than he’d thought it would be. Bardock might not have ever had sex before but he was a natural lover. The room was quiet and the king began to contemplate the best way to throw the other man out when the mattress suddenly shifted. He looked over, his brow furrowed as the scientist sat up with a slight wince and clamored to his feet.

“Bathe if you must,” the king began, intending to finish the statement with a order to leave right afterwards, but the other man shook his head.

“I’ll do so in my quarters, sire,” he said and Vegeta stared at the other man for a second before nodding. He sat up himself, leaning heavily against the headboard as Bardock got dressed. The king picked up a pad that sat so innocuously on the table beside the bed.

He stared at the image displayed there while he spoke. “It’s good that the savior is of my blood line,” he said and Bardock’s movements paused. The king’s eyes moved to the third-class’s back as he continued. “I’d have hated to have to destroy him.”

The scientist turned around abruptly to face him. “You—you would kill the savior?”

Vegeta watched the man’s reactions intently even as he kept his tone nonchalant. “I would kill anyone who posed a threat to my son and his claim to the throne.”

Bardock’s throat bobbed heavily as he turned away again. “Doesn’t seem like the savior is terribly interested in the throne, anyway,” he murmured.

The king snorted. “It doesn’t matter. A super saiyan unattached to the royal house is a _threat_ to the royal house,” he said purposefully, his eyes watching for any reaction.

But none came. No hesitation in the man’s movements nor the stink of guilt in the air. Bardock had bowed respectfully before scurrying off. It was something of a change of pace for the king. Usually his lovers liked to linger—liked to be linked to the saiyan ruler in the palace gossip, but this third-class, this Bardock, son of Kartock . . . there was more to him even as he ran as fast as he could from the king.

Vegeta looked back down at the pad—at the image that had captured him so . . .

The third-class was hunched over his terminal, tears streaming down his face in the agony of loss. Vegeta had had the camera installed in the lab soon after meeting Bardock. Nappa had made the passing remark about the third-class saiyan being far more powerful than his file stated. The king hadn't believed it at first, not with the scientist's file so clearly showing that he’d been designated third-class at birth, sent off planet and had returned in only a few short years after clearing the world he’d been sent to. So very unremarkable to anyone not _looking_.

It was a cornerstone of saiyan culture to advance one’s self and one’s power—to rise above as many others as one could. A third-class remaining a third-class out of _choice_ was unheard of.

And how would a scientist that only participated in the odd off-planet job possibly advance far enough to move into the second class? He’d only intended to check up on Bardock on occasion to see if he was secretly training rather than working or if there was some other explanation that was missing.

But that power surge . . . he’d not even thought to check the video of the geneticist . . . not until months later. Nappa had mentioned seeing Bardock in one of the more remote training facilities—one that specialized in simulations rather than physically sparring with other opponents. That facility was expensive—not out of Bardock's reach, clearly, but enough so that his presence there had been noted by others who frequented the small complex . . . Most notably General Nappa. The scientist never fought anyone publicly—rarely accepted any challenges even as he was called a coward and crazy, but there were rumors—rumors that had even made their way to the king's ear. They spoke of a third-class that had defeated arrogant elites as though Bardock were some hopeful hero to the lower classes. The king hadn't placed much stock in them until Nappa—nosy general that he was—had _seen_ Bardock in a private training chamber. He'd overridden the facility's privacy settings using his official access codes just because of his own curiosity, and he’d seen something unexpected . . . a warrior of at least first, if not _elite_ class.

And so it was not Bardock’s obvious pain or tears that drew Vegeta’s attention . . . it was the green eyes from which those tears fell.


	2. Chapter 2

Bardock kept his head bowed as the king read over the pad outlining his work for the week. It was soon dropped—discarded as all others had been in the past for their lack of information on the savior. He kept his eyes averted even as the king watched him silently.

“Look at me.”

He looked up, blinking slowly as his gaze met that of the king.

The saiyan ruler raised a brow. “Is this bit of nothing  _ really _ all you’ve done this week?”

“It’s all that pertains to your orders,” he said evenly.

Vegeta snorted. “Tell me what  _ else _ my royal coin has purchased me.”

He already knew where this was going. “The assignments that you’ve tasked me with do not take up all the hours allotted to me during my shifts, and so I have taken on additional responsibilities within the division.”

The other man snorted out a laugh. “I’ve received reports,” he began with a knowing look. “Of you rearranging the techs in some of the lower departments. Is  _ that _ what you’ve been doing in your spare time?”

There was no anger or accusation there, which surprised the third-class. 

He kept his voice carefully neutral and his face void of any emotion. “Their workflow was inefficient. Too many people working on the same task while too few were working on ones deemed . . . unimportant by some of the higher ups.”

The king’s smirk was all teeth. Bardock was no fool. In the two years he’d been working for the science division, it had been steadily growing as the king brought on more scientists—mostly off-word sentients. He’d placed the usual gaggle of connected saiyan nobles as interim heads, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that they were entirely unqualified for their positions.

“Such as?” the king asked with a knowing smile.

“Ordering one of the teams specializing in biochemistry to work on  _ gene mapping _ because they don’t understand that a biochemist  _ isn’t _ a geneticist,” he said with a sneer. 

The king nodded, his expression deceptively light. “The science division is still a new section of the government. We aren’t entirely sure what it’s going to be yet.”

Bardock said nothing, but his raised brow said  _ everything _ that he thought about  _ that _ . 

Vegeta watched him for a long moment before looking towards Cado. “Leave us,” he said.

The secretary blinked but nodded and left the room. Bardock grimaced, his eyes averted from the knowing gaze of the weakling noble. This was how it always started, after all. He would make his report and then the king would send everyone else away and fuck him. 

The door shut and the third-class expected Vegeta to get up while pushing his uniform aside, but that wasn’t what happened. Instead the king sat back, his expression expectant. Bardock nodded shallowly in understanding. The king wanted his unfiltered opinion.

“Schedules assigned by the nobility are to be respected,” Vegeta began with a wave of his fingers. “They are the best educated among us—”

“According to  _ what _ scale?” Bardock asked snippily, interrupting his king. “We have no formal education here on Vegeta-sei—nothing but the most basic of information passed from parent to child—”

The king cut in. “For all  _ but  _ the nobles. They are educated by tutors and scholars from around the galaxy, so should it not be them that dictates the hierarchy of tasks?”

Bardock couldn’t withhold the snort of disdain. “Those  _ instructors _ could literally be teaching them how to strap on their armor all day. There is no standardization to their knowledge or their abilities. They are brought into my department by nepotism and bribery—”

_ “Your _ department?”

Bardock’s mouth snapped shut and he grimaced. “The science division is, of course, owned by the royal family.”

The king was quiet for a long moment and Bardock was beginning to think that he’d pushed his luck too far when Vegeta finally spoke again. “Do you wish to be head of the science division, Bardock, son of Kartock of  _ no _ house.”

The third-class didn’t allow the shock of the question to overwhelm him as he cast a withering look at the saiyan ruler. “In accordance with your standards, I am not fit for such a position due to my lack of education,” he said flatly.

Vegeta snorted as he got up and came around the desk. He came to stand before the scarred saiyan and he held out his hand. Bardock hesitated but took the outstretched fingers and he was pulled to his feet.

“I didn’t ask if you were fit, Bardock,” the king said softly. “I asked if it’s what you want. Do you want that department? You only need to say ‘yes’ and it’s yours.”

The third-class looked up and met the king’s eyes. For two years, they’d been on-again off-again lovers. Vegeta would go through phases where he fucked Bardock daily followed by weeks of little more than a spare glance. It was as though he were waiting for Bardock to demand more of him—to shallowly cling to him like a parasite.

Bardock was as unsure of how to feel about their affair as he’d been that first time. He did not want the exposure of being so close to the king, but . . . the other man had come to mean something to him. It would never last, of course. The second the king lost interest—truly set him aside, and there was no longer a threat to Raditz—Bardock would leave. 

But there were times such as these that made doubt churn within him—when they were alone, and there was only the quiet surrounding them. When the king treated him not as some warm body to use on occasion, but as—as an equal. As much as Vegeta was using him for physical release . . . Bardock was using him in return for even the illusion of something like affection.

“The rumors are already bad enough,” he murmured as he attempted to take his hand back but the king held tight.

“I don’t care about rumors. I care about my new science division. It is still in its infancy and they are already trying to sink their claws into it. Are you going to let them?”

That brought the third-class up short. He swallowed as he mentally reviewed his options, what he thought of the future. Agreeing to this would possibly also force him into the palace full time. Department Heads who actually did their job, usually resided within the extended palace complex.

His fists clenched. “No,” he breathed out.

Vegeta nodded in acceptance, his fingers coming around Bardock’s jaw as the other man held him stationary. The king’s eyes moved over his face as though he was searching for something.

“Come to my chambers, tonight.”

Bardock nearly pulled away. He’d never returned to the king’s chambers after that first time. He’d never been ordered to and their subsequent trysts had all been in side rooms or in this very office if the man was in the mood.

Going back to his chambers—his bed. That . . . that was too much—too close to the razor’s edge of pain that he was already risking everytime he was close to the king.

The scientist kept all emotion out of his voice. “My king . . . If I am truly to be a department head . . . perhaps it would be better to refrain from engaging in . . .” he trailed off, looking away.

Vegeta’s head twisted as he physically  _ moved _ into Bardock’s line of sight and forced their gazes to meet once again. “Are you embarrassed, Bardock? Embarrassed that you’ve somehow outlasted all my other lovers?”

The king was baiting him—trying to trigger some kind of reaction. “Outlasted?” Bardock asked with a raised brow. “That would imply that I was the last left attending to you, and . . .” The scientist took sharp inhale, scenting the faint odor of another saiyan's spend. “We  _ both _ know that’s not true.”

The king watched him for a moment, seemingly looking for a something, but apparently not finding it as he shrugged. “They come and go, and admittedly, it's hard to keep track, but they are all so tiresome.”

It was only a matter of time before he too was dumped into that category.

“Am I not tiresome as well, my king?” he asked flippantly.

Vegeta pursed his lips. “Hardly.”

Bardock shrugged, unconcerned. “I will become so soon enough, I think. When we grow comfortable, we become bored.”

The saiyan ruler blinked a few time, his brow furrowing and mouth curling in thought. “Why do I feel as though you’re hoping that will happen?”

He smiled bitterly. “Because an affair between the king and a third-class can not end well—not for the third-class at least.”

“You think the vultures will swarm if you lose my favor?”

“Won’t they?” he asked expectantly.

Vegeta seemed caught off guard by the notion for some reason. “Perhaps . . . though you would be in a far stronger position if you took a page out of your son’s book and got re-tested.”

“I don’t need or want a re-test.”

The king was unsurprised by the answer. “Raditz has benefited tremendously from his relationship with Renkon. You could do the same.”

Bardock nearly burst out laughing. Him? Take on a rank lover? He was a third-class engineer who was bordering on middle-age. Still, he pretended to think it over. “I suppose,” he murmured. “Allion  _ has _ been somewhat persistent—”

“Allion?” the king snapped. “Allion of House Parasal made an offer?”

Truthfully, nearly a dozen elites had over the last year. They’d always had their eyes on him—and more specifically on his weekly face-to-face meetings with the king, but ever since he’d put that arrogant noble brat into a regen tank last year, they’d corner him on occasion and either formally or informally propose an . . . arrangement. Allion had  _ been _ that arrogant brat and his offer was the first—and most persistent. Some saiyans would relish the opportunity, but Bardock had little use for a bunch of pampered nobles that thought to use him as an  _ in _ with the king.

“I’m not interested in a rank lover,” he said slowly. “Testing out of my class will not make me any better at my job and Raditz has already tested into second class—he’s almost to first class. If I do the same . . . the nobles will go even further out of their way to undermine me.”

“They would not dare—”

“You can not control the thoughts and ideas of people, my king. Things have been done only in one way for centuries on this planet . . . but you’re changing everything. Many of the nobles would have us still purging planets for profit even as our galaxy is slowly dying, but you . . . you wanted more.”

The king eyed him speculatively then and Bardock kicked himself. He shouldn’t have said that.

“I have been away from the department for more than my usual time. I should be returning,” he said, moving away from the saiyan ruler.

Vegeta didn’t move. “I expect you in my chambers after last eventide call.”

Bardock said nothing, merely nodded as he stepped back outside the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of these chapters will be on the shorter side. I didn't want to post them at first because I thought they were _too_ short but I didn't have the time or the inclination to try and further flesh them out. This chapter, for example, could have included the inevitable sex scene, but I really don't enjoy writing sex scenes tbh. They're always the last thing I write when I'm working on my drafts. Some chapters will have them and some won't, but there's plenty of sex in the main storyline, tho lol.
> 
> Allion doesn't currently feature heavily in this backstory(or at all), but I'm debating on writing some stuff about a bratty noble,who is younger than Raditz, being infatuated with the old man nerdy scientist that beat the crap out of him. Meanwhile, the king is like, "why is this infant hanging around bae??"


	3. Chapter 3

“It’s that weakling scientist,” Glaric said as their small group sat off to the side of the training yards.

Allion looked up from the fight he’d been watching to catch sight of the saiyan in question. He’d heard of Bardock, of course—who hadn’t? The lone saiyan working in the bowels of the science division. Allion’s own father Scall wouldn’t shut up about the third-class who talked back to his betters.

He was also apparently fucking the king.

The noble raised a brow as the older saiyan walked through the corridor towards the private sparring carrels. Bardock never sparred with other saiyans—the man was practically a ghost haunting the palace, only showing his face late at night when most of the nobles had long since left the training grounds.

“He’s such a coward,” Allion said lowly. “Hiding from everyone—except when he’s on his knees in front of the king.”

The others laughed and Peppes spoke up. “Never fucked a third-class before—I heard they’re so messed up in the head from all the genetic manipulation that they’re just wild animals. All they care about is fighting and fucking.”

“King Vegeta seems the type to like it rough,” Allion responded. “Though, I can’t imagine he gets much of a fight from . . .” the noble trailed off as he hit a button on his scouter and scanned the older saiyan. “A power level of 132. What a joke.”

“I don’t know—I heard the king has already discarded him,” Glaric said with a shrug. “My sister told me that he hasn’t had any . . . extended meetings with King Vegeta in weeks.”

Allion raised a brow. “If he’s not favored by the king, then why is he still getting away with going behind my father’s back.”

“You father isn’t the  _ official _ head of the science division. The scientists don’t have to follow what Scall tells them to do if his commands are outside the purview of the king’s direct orders.”

The noble tilted his head. “I bet they’ll all fall in line once their ring leader is gone,” he said with a smile.

Glaric narrowed his eyes. “What do you care about the science division?”

“I don’t. But the reason I’m sitting here in the middle of the night is because my father is such an asshole—especially on days when he has a run-in with Bardock. I don’t know why he hasn’t just blasted him from existence, but if he’s too afraid of the king to do it, then I will.”

“You’re gonna what? Go and kill him?”

“Why not? No one gives a shit about some dumb weakling scientist. If the king isn’t messing around with him any more then he doesn’t have any protection. Might as well get it over with—-weaklings who don’t know their place aren’t long for this world, anyway. That’s just survival.”

The others nodded, though Glaric still looked dubious. “You gonna do it right now?”

Allion pursed his lips before standing up. He cracked his neck from side to side and stretched out the muscles of his shoulder. “Why not,” he said. “This shouldn’t take long.”

Peppes laughed again. “Have fun!” he called as Allion began walking away. Bardock was already in one of the private carrels and thus his power level was obscured from scouters, but this late at night, there was only one carrel that was active so the third-class was easy to find.

It was even easier to use his father’s government clearance codes to force the system to open and let him in. His scouter shrieked before quieting and he blinked as the door slid open. He pressed the button on the side a few times. 

“Cheap shit,” he muttered as he looked inside and immediately spotted Bardock. The other man wasn’t out of breath, but there was a fine sheen of sweat covering his body. He’d shed his tent-like engineering outfit and Allion blinked as he took in a build that was on the slender side.

“Is there something I can assist you with,” Bardock asked and the noble shook himself free of his thoughts. He stepped inside and allowed the door to shut behind him and the system re-activated.

“I am Allion of House Parasal.”

“Scall’s boy?” Bardock asked with a raised brow.

“That’s  _ Lord _ Scall, to you, third-class,” Allion snarled in correction. His father was right. Bardock  _ was _ a disrespectful shit. “And I’m not a boy!”

The other man shrugged. “I have a son your age, so you’ll forgive me if you seem like a child to me,” Bardock said lazily.

_ Why was he acting like this? _ Low-classes were barely literate animals—his father had said so!

“Does your son bend over for his betters like you do?” he asked as he took a breath. Glaric was right, it seemed. No other scent lingered around the other man. The third-class had lost favor . . . and now he’d lose his life. “Oh, my mistake. The king’s already gotten his use out of you, but hey, maybe your kid will be able to fill your role . . . and if not King Vegeta—I can think of plenty of nobles that like taking turns with third-classes.”

The casual expression and stance of Bardock shifted as he finished his statement. The third-class seemed to finally be realizing that Allion was there for one reason and one reason only. The noble advanced on him and threw his punch. He felt the impact of his fist on Bardock’s face—felt the way the man’s head was thrown to the side, but . . . the third-class didn’t move. His body didn’t fall or stagger or even flinch. The older saiyan’s fringe covered his eyes as Allion pulled his fist away. His knuckles were smeared with blood and he saw the red smudge against the corner of Bardock’s lip.

The third-class sighed and turned his head back towards Allion. “What did you say about my son?” he asked quietly.

The noble blinked, suddenly unsure of the situation. That punch should have  _ broken his neck _ . This—this  _ was _ Bardock, the third-class embarrassment, wasn’t it? The scar—the  _ scar _ on the man’s cheek was a dead give-away of his identity, so then why—why was he not crumbling like dust beneath Allion’s hand?

“No more strong words?” the older saiyan asked.

Allion sputtered out, “I don’t need strong words, third-class. I am a saiyan elite—words mean nothing. Only power,” he said puffing his chest out.

“Is that right?” Bardock asked rhetorically as his eyes moved past Allion to find something behind him. The control panel—he’d made sure it was off so there would be no recordings . . . The third-class’ gaze moved back to him.

“Strong words are all you have, it seems,” Bardock said as his hand moved faster than Allion  _ could even see _ and the noble reared back, eyes wide in shock as a hand came around his neck and  _ squeezed _ . He was forced back until he hit the wall, and the younger saiyan could do nothing but claw at the grip on his throat as his air was cut off.

Slowly, the edges around his vision became hazy and his body slumped. Allion tried to speak, but nothing escaped by broken pathetic  choking noises. Just as he was about to pass out, the hand pulled away slightly and he gasped at the thin stream of air for a second before the other man slammed him back into the wall.  _ Hard _ .

Allion gasped as air seeped into his lungs and his mouth worked furiously as he—he  _ begged _ . “Please,” he gasped.

He didn’t want to die—it was the saiyan way, but how could he end like this? He was destined for great things.  _ Oh great ancestor, please _ . . .

Bardock’s eyes  _ burned _ and the noble felt the older man’s  _ rage _ .  His arms dropped away as all his strength drained away and just when he was about to pass out,  the man released him. Allion fell to the ground coughing and gagging. He laid there, unable to even pull himself up, and if he thought the other man was done, he was mistaken. Bardock watched him for only a moment, before reaching down and picking him up by the scruff of his armor. 

The scientist slammed Allion into the ground multiple times and he felt things inside him  _ shatter _ .

“Ahhhh!!” he screamed in pain.”Please stop!”

“Words mean nothing,” Bardock rumbled out. “Only power.”

There were . . . there  _ tears _ in his eyes. “I was wrong!” he cried out.

Bardock raised his fist, and Allion’s entire body shook with fear. This man was going to  _ kill _ him. He held up his arms in front of his face, shielding himself from the oncoming attack . . . that never came. After a moment had passed in tense silence, and no more pain bloomed over his battered body, the noble hesitantly lowered his hands enough that he could see the other man eyeing him dispassionately.

Bardock sighed and stood back up straight. “The sad truth of it is that you aren’t wrong, Allion of House Parasal. Had I been the weakling you thought I was, it would be me in your place begging for my life.”

Allion shook his head hastily. “I didn’t come to kill you—”

“You  _ did _ ,” Bardock hissed out. “I know you—I know that rancid sack of saiyan  _ garbage _ you call a father. I know that if I killed you, his only heir, he would simply breed another and the  _ only _ reason you’re still alive is to save myself the guilt of inflicting that particular  _ torture _ on your mother.”

Allion swallowed compulsively as Bardock backed away, his once slender and deceptively weak build, suddenly appearing as lethal as any super elite that Allion had ever seen.

“If you so much as look at Raditz, I will not be so merciful a second time,” Bardock said as he gave one final look before turning away and leaving him there.

He passed out soon after, wondering if his friends would find him . . . wondering if anyone would bother to put him in a regen tank or if his corpse would be found in a few days.

 

* * *

 

When he came to, it was with the floaty feeling of the regen tank as the liquid slowly drained. His eyes blinked open as the pod opened. He hadn’t spent much time in regen tanks—especially not since he’d gotten stronger than his father. He shifted uncomfortably as hands reached inside and pulled the breathing mask off. 

He stood stiffly after being hauled out by the sentient attendant and kept still as fresh water was showered over him and the regen fluids were washed away. Allion swallowed as his mind cleared and he began to process what was happening. 

Bardock . . . that third-class who wasn’t a third-class. The older saiyan had beaten him to near death. 

“Your clothes, Lord Parasal,” the sentient said softly as she held out a set of clothing. He recognized the ornate designs and knew his mother must have come.  _ How many people knew? _ he wondered.

“Is my mother still here?”

“She was notified of your impending release and she is currently waiting for you in a private suite.”

Allion nodded as he pulled the outfit on, holding steady as the attendant helped him to fasten some of the closures around his wrists.

“How long was I in there?” he asked.

The sentient looked up, her purple pupil-less eyes unblinking. “Two days and five hours.”

He must have had serious internal bleeding to have warranted that much time. Someone had to have found him very soon after Bardock left, otherwise he would not have survived.

“Who found me?” he asked, already calculating the bribes he would have to pay to Glaric or Peppes—or both—to get them to keep their mouths shut about this.

The sentient moved away and typed something into a comm pad before looking back up. “The comm code used to report your injuries belongs to Bardock, son of Kartock.”

“Bardock?” he echoed with a furrowed brow. “ _ Bardock _ reported it?”

“It is his palace comm code that was recorded.”

Allion licked his lips. Bardock hadn’t just left him there to die—he’d . . . he’d made sure someone found him. The noble took a steadying breath as he nodded to the sentient and stepped out. He was directed to the private room and his mother, Liane of House Shiso, stood waiting for him.

His father wasn’t there, but that was hardly surprising. Allion couldn’t meet his mother’s gaze as they stood in the silence. She approached him and he flinched as she reached out and touched his arm.

“What happened?” she asked softly. “You were . . . they said you almost died.”

Allion looked up. “You . . . you don’t know?”

Her brow furrowed. “Glaric and Peppes said you’d gone off to beat up some third-class, but that you must have been attacked—who did it? Who attacked you?

“It was him,” he murmured. 

“Who?”

“The _third-class_ . . . Bardock. I—I got tired of listening to father and so I . . . I cornered him. I was—I was going to kill him, but he . . . he beat me.”

“You should know,” his mother began, her tone clipped. “That experienced warriors can best even those more powerful than them—”

“No—No this wasn’t like that!” he cut in heatedly. “He didn’t  _ outsmart _ me. I hit him directly—I . . . I wanted it to be quick. That one blow should have  _ killed _ him, but he shook it off as if I was some infant batting at him. I don’t . . . I don’t understand! My power level is greater than father’s and even Renkon has told me that I brought pride not only to Parasal but also to Shiso.” 

His mother looked away. “There have always been rumors about Bardock, and your father . . .”

“What _about_ Father?”

Liane sighed. “He didn’t want anyone to know, but . . . he tried to kill Bardock not long after he started working for the science division. Scall didn’t like how the sentients deferred to a third-class rather than a noble.”

“Father never said . . .”

“Why would he?” she asked chidingly. “Why would he let anyone know that a third-class beat him? His only saving grace is that Bardock has never felt the need to spread that information around, either.”

“Bardock is,” he searched for the right words. “He’s not like other low-classes. He’s more like—like a noble . . . a  _ pure _ noble.”

Liane blinked a few times and he knew she had picked up on what was unsaid. “Only the royals are pure—”

“I know, but he’s . . . You didn’t see the way he  _ changed _ when I talked about his son.”

His own father would  _ never _ have gotten so angry—would never have cared to fight unless directly challenged, but Bardock . . .

“You goaded the third-class into a fight and lost. I’m assuming that since he never said anything about Scall, that he also won’t say anything about you . . .” she said quickly before trailing off, her expression thoughtful. “It does make one wonder how many other elites have been beaten by him with no one the wiser—I can’t imagine you and Scall are the only ones to have gotten it into your heads to go after him.”

Allion grimaced. “He isn’t interested in notoriety and defeating an elite . . . that would bring too much attention to him.”

Liane shrugged. “There’s nothing for it, I suppose. Anyway, your father is on one of his tears so I thought we could spend a few days on the Shiso estates while you recuperate. Renkon is planet-side at the moment.”

Renkon was quite a few years older than him, but even with the age difference, he’d always treated Allion well. The young noble was looking forward to seeing his cousin, but he could never breathe a word of his defeat to the man. 

Allion bit his lip as a thought kept nagging at him. “How is he so strong?” he murmured. “How could he have beaten me like that?”

His mother watched him. “Forget about it,” she said imploringly. “Obsessions with power has driven many of our people mad. You’re planning to join the imperial fleet soon—focus on that.”

The young man looked up sharply. “I’m _not_ obsessed, but he’s—he’s different.”

She very nearly glared at his obtuseness. “Bringing attention to that won’t help you—there’s no benefit to thinking any further on it _or_ him.”

Both his brows went up. “How can there be no benefit when he is so powerful?”

“If you suddenly start paying attention to him—people will want to know _why_.”

Allion’s eyes slid to his mother. “Why do nobles normally pay attention to low-classes?”

His mother’s jaw dropped open for a few seconds before snapping shut. “That man is old enough to be your father,” she said with an disbelieving look.

“But not so old that he would be uninterested,” Allion said in response.

Liane rolled her eyes. “You are going to humiliate yourself—not to mention the tantrum your father will throw.”

The young man felt something in him shift.  It was not uncommon for sons or daughters to kill one or both of their parents and take control of the family. The only reason Allion hadn’t killed his father the second he tested into elite classification was because he intended to join the imperial fleet, and killing his father would force him to stay planet-side in order to take Scall's place among the nobility.

Allion had little interest in the tediousness of politics.

“Father can go blast himself,” he said with a malicious smirk of his lips as ideas began to swirl in his mind. “I . . . I want Bardock.”

 

* * *

 

A week later, he was discovering that _wanting_ Bardock and . . . _acquiring_ him were two very different notions. All his bravado drained faster than water through a wide sieve in the face of actually seeing Bardock . . . and  _ talking _ to him. Allion swallowed thickly as he  _ hid _ behind a column. Bardock was there—he could see the other man exiting the science building and the young noble steeled his nerves before making his way forward. He knew the second Bardock sensed him.

The older saiyan paused his steps, but he didn’t turn around to face Allion.  “I thought I made myself clear.”

The young man licked his dry lips before slowly walking forward until he was within an arm's distance of the other saiyan. He took in a deep breath, scenting the third-class. Still no lingering scent of a lover.

A small smile worked its way to the surface, even as his fists trembled slightly. “I—I’ve come to—to . . .”

Bardock turned around then, his dark eyes flat and dispassionate. “Spit it out, noble.”

“I . . .” he began, trying his best not to allow his mind to completely white out in the face of the man who had nearly _killed_ him only a week ago. “I am here with a formal offer of—of arrangement.”

The cold expression dropped and all that was left was bafflement. “Arrangement?” Bardock echoed, seemingly unable to understand the word.

Allion swallowed audibly and nodded his head. “As a member of the nobility, I have the option of offering arrangement to someone of—of lower class.”

Bardock was blinked rapidly as he processed the information, “You want to be my  _ rank lover _ ?” he asked, his jaw hanging open. “How  _ old _ are you?”

“I am not a child!” Allion growled out. “I am nineteen years old—”

“Nineteen,” Bardock repeated dubiously. “The age of total wisdom and enlightenment.”

The noble let out an offended growl. “I will not be mocked—”

The scientist’s amused expression shifted in a fraction of a second. “You’ll be mocked or you will be  _ paste _ ,” Bardock hissed out and Allion’s jaw snapped shut as a shiver raced up his spine.

“I—I only mean . . . I am making a serious offer—one you should take . . . um . . . seriously,” he finished lamely.

The older saiyan shook his head as he turned to leave. “I’ve little use for pampered brats.”

“I can protect you!” Allion called out, hating the edge of desperation that colored his voice.

Bardock laughed, but did turn back to face him. “Protect  _ me _ ? The only reason I spared  _ you _ is because of your age.”

Allion blinked rapidly. This wasn’t going the way he’d thought it would. “The king no longer favors you!” he said quickly.

The scientist tilted his head and raised an unimpressed brow. “I was never favored to begin with, and I fail to see how that has anything to do you.”

“The nobles all hate you, but—but if you tie yourself to me,” he said with a swallow. “An—an attack on you is an attack on my house.”

The third-class watched him for a beat or two before quirking a smile. “And I suppose you would expect something from me in exchange for this . . . protection.”

The _smile_ . . . Allion’s eyes went wide and he licked his lips again, trying to figure out how far he could push this. “I . . . I would only ask what I am . . . owed.”

“Owed,” Bardock echoed in a whisper as he began to approach the younger saiyan. Allion backed away until his back hit the wall. “Do I  _ owe _ you something, Allion? Do you want power over me?”

Bardock’s finger came up and the noble flinched but it only gently brushed over his cheek. 

He looked up and met Bardock’s eyes. “I don’t want . . . I don’t want to own you. I just—I just want you.”

And he did. Allion was rapidly discovering that he wanted Bardock more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life. This enigma of a strange  _ feeling _ third-class brimming with unknown power. Allion wanted to peel back every layer and revel in the knowledge that such a thing was  _ his _ . 

The scientist seemed strangely thoughtful of the statement before apparently dismissing him. “I’m not interested in kids.”

Allion shook his head. “I told you I’m not a child—”

“You are a year  _ younger _ than my son. I am four years  _ older _ than your father,” Bardock said as he began to pull away.

The noble felt fury moving through his mind. Bardock still wasn’t taking him seriously. He bared his teeth in anger before suddenly surging up the inch that separated them. He plastered his lips to the third-class’. Bardock stumbled a bit, but Allion wrapped his arms around the other man’s neck, pushing  _ him _ until they hit the opposite wall and Bardock let out a soft, ‘oof” at the impact.

The older saiyan’s arms seemed to be frozen by his side as Allion held on and moved his lips enough for the both of them. He’d _show_ Bardock that he wasn’t a child.

It lasted far longer than he’d thought the scientist would allow. He felt the other man’s lips move with his—felt the way the scientist opened his mouth and allowed Allion’s tongue entry. He couldn’t help the soft whine that escaped him when Bardock  _ did _ eventually push him gently away.

The older saiyan's were red and his eyes . . . they were strangely soft. Allion went in again to kiss him, but Bardock shook his head and halted his movements with a hand on his chest.

“I’m not entering any arrangement with you,” Bardock murmured again.

Allion reached down and took Bardock’s large hand into his own, noting the rough calluses. “You’re strong but . . . they can still hurt you or—or your son,” he said as his mind looked for a way to turn this around. “If you’re really—really against sleeping with me, you don’t need to do that.”

He just needed the agreement. The more physical aspect could wait and after that kiss, he was sure he could wear the other man down. Bardock said nothing at first, and hope surged within him. It couldn't last ,though, as Bardock eventually pushed him more firmly until they were fully separated again.

The third-class looked him over for a second before nodding to himself. “I’m not interested in a rank lover who can be defeated so easily.”

Allion felt himself slump in defeat before the entirety of the statement sank in. 

He looked up with wide eyes. “I won’t give up," he said quickly. "I’m gonna get stronger and defeat you. You’ll  _ have _ to say yes, then!”

The scarred saiyan eyed him with a knowing look. “Knock yourself out, kid,” he said as he turned and began walking away again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's Allion. This chapter is from his POV which is not really how I intended to write this side story, however it would be too easy to paint Allion as a shitty little brat(which he is), but I wanted to make it clear that he's not as one dimensional as being _just_ a brat. He's mentioned once or twice in Lost Prince, but I don't think he'll make an actual appearance in that story. I have more for him for this side story, but I'm not sure if I want to write something that chronologically fits between this chapter and the next snippet where he features.


End file.
